The Unwavering Dusk
by neon flux
Summary: Dusk – a noun meaning partial darkness. A state she found herself entangled in. He came and he knew, determined to take her back to the light completely.[TxM,DxM]
1. His resolve

The new-bloom flowers lay before the tombstone. Their petals swiftly dance with the passing breeze in that spring day. The smell of burnt candles fills the area. It is indeed a peaceful place where the world's troubles and hazards would effect no possible response. It appears to be a world connecting two dimensions of two essentially different beings – a world where two time frames meet, the past and the present.

On one corner lay a beautiful set of newly-pounded stone. Gray and dull, others simply seemed to be incomparable with it. On the opposite end lay another elegantly-designed, and probably costly, ensemble. A picture went along with it, probably a man on his 20's. Among these, this particular tombstone would rarely get anyone's attention. It's just a simple stone, like the others, yet it is always filled with flowers – never would a day pass by without it being graced with nature's beautiful gift.

A young woman entered the seemingly undisturbed haven. She slowly made her way through the confusing maze of tablets and eventually took a pause after arriving at a point. She removed the glasses she's been wearing and looked at a distance, where an old tree stood its ground. Its muscular trunk and laid out branches signified support and stability. Its darkened leaves almost imitated the plight of a flowing river as a soft breeze once more blew. In her eyes, this was like heaven – if such a place did exist in this twice-troubled part of the galaxy.

Staring at that scene unfolding before her, she couldn't help but sigh at the oncoming reality. She walked on and deep further into the place – ending in a seemingly isolated area. She let out her hand and touched the rusty wood of that tree which she adored from a distance. Its hard and stable layer shook her thoughts from her dreams – it is a proof of reality. This tree, which was once smooth to anyone's touch, is now rough and dull – just like the stones surrounding it, similar to the one beneath it. This one stone beneath it, this was _his _grave.

She knelt down and touched it with a hand, removing the tiny petals which slipped over from the breeze. The flowers are still there, those soft hues of blue and white appear to be as clingy as the tree. No matter how strong the wind blew, it still remained there – it still held on. Staring at these beautiful and warming sight, she couldn't help but compare herself to them. She touched a single petal from one of the stems, yet as soon as her fingers came across it, it fell – as silently as it stood. She tried to ignore this and hoped this didn't mean anything. She instead thought it was time to replace the flowers with new ones – the ones that she'd brought along. Using her other hand, she gently placed the stems of newly-picked flowers in the small crystal-like containers which were permanently carved in the gravestone's corners, and with the other, she took away the previous sets of blooms. She did this, with much heart and dedication. As she finished, she then took the old ones with both hands, stared at them for a while and placed them back in the container she carried with her. Afterwhich, she simply arranged her blouse, which was awfully strained and crumpled from her previous actions. She had just become a freelance photographer and ever since, she's been in many places before – always on the go and ready to hit the road. This is the only trip she'd dare not try go missing on. This became more than a 'habit' to her – this is a part of her. She then sat up straight and looked at the stone before her. With her fingers, she delicately touched each letter inscripted on it.

"Hey…" she whispered.

"How are you?" she asked, looking on the thing that lay before her. She appeared to be talking to an invisible being as she gave pauses in between her statements.

"Me? I just had a rough day. I've been trying hard to get even a glimpse of this wild goose. You know, when I get that one picture of it, I'll pass it as an entry in a prestigious festival and hopefully win the plum. Do you want to know how I heard about that festival?" she asked. After a short while, in a delighted and exuberant tone, she continued – enthusiasm getting the best of her.

"Okay, I'll tell you, but I'll only tell it once. You better listen. Here goes…" she took a deep breath and spoke up once again. Her eyes shone brightly as she even acted out the gestures of the people in her story. The joy of just talking about it made her laugh her loudest, mindless of the place where she sat and the seemingly quiet ears that listen.

She went on like that for one could say as hours. Her voice and laughter died down as she found herself just sitting there, numbly staring at the gravestone – _his gravestone_. As if on cue, her eyes began to blur as she felt warmth on her cheeks. Tears. She tried to wipe them away but eventually gave up. She focused her attention once more to the stone, this time, with uncontrollable tears. The area now has begun to witness another change of emotion. The once laughter-filled place was now filled with great pain and sorrow – like what it was always known for. The peace and tranquility proved to affect her more deeply, as she battled herself over and over, helplessly drowning herself with continuously pouring tears. She was like this. She's always like this. Each time she sees _his_ name, each time she gets even the slightest glimpse of _his_ gravestone, she'd feel weakness in her knees - bluntness in her senses. In this state, she so willingly gave all her energy just pouring out all the emotions that stirred within her. Strands of memories flashed in her mind – memories of _him_. How she wished she could, for even the last time, hear _his_ voice once more or even tell _him_ how much she cares for _him_. Yet there was no time for such impossible things to happen, for, there was no _him_. _He_ is dead – a corpse whose body is nowhere to be found. And here before her is merely a symbol – a place where she found sanctuary and security. This is a place built by man's hands to somehow remind the people that he, indeed, existed and lived in this world, just like the others. This thought alone pains her, pierces her heart and shatters it into pieces. Was _he_ given justice? War takes lives away. War killed _him_. What justice is in there? Could she, a mere being, haunt war and make it pay its debts? For it did not only take _his_ life, it took hers with it as well.

Her tears slowly subsided. Her grunts and her angst little by little faded. She lived and he died. There's enough truth to that yet somehow, she can't let go. Every time she sees those happy couples walking side by side in parks, she remembers him. How does his hand feel again? She forgot its warmth. They say let go and move on, but no one ever taught her how. And besides, how could some one who had loved and lost ever forget her beloved when all the things that surround her remind her so much of _him_? No one really got the answer to that. No one.

The sun started its glorious retreat as the horizon is filled with hues of orange. She could feel the isolation and the coolness that sight brought with it. She stopped for a while to gaze on _his _gravestone, while the sun's radiance held on against the threatening darkness. She realized this and looked at the stone that bore _his_ name – at _him_.

"Good bye now. I'm glad we've seen each other today. I hope to see you soon…" she ended. Yes, she would really love to see _him_ soon, if there is any other soon to come. She stood up, grabbed the container she carried with her, and left the place before giving a final glance at _his_ grave – from a distance.

She arrived a little late to her cozy apartment. As soon as she got in, she immediately hit the bed and lay there, resting her body against the soft mattress. She's never felt so exhausted before. She decided to skip dinner for she never had the appetite. She just shut her eyes and tried to clear her mind. In it, she imagined herself just freely flowing like the gentle wind. How she loved to just go somewhere and just be…free.

She was awakened by a loud, continuous bell-like sound. She sleepily reached for her bedside table and hit an object. Indeed it did stop the beeping sound, but not her eyes from opening. She sat up straight and noticed she was still in her clothes from yesterday. She never even had the strength to change – that's how tired she's been. Standing up, she stretched her arms and legs, and somehow felt new blood rushing in. Before even doing anything else, she went over the container she brought home with her. She took out sets of now-decaying blooms from it and placed them on the table – just beside the window sill. She grabbed her camera sitting idly near her alarm clock and turned it on. She then pulled a chair and sat on it. She peeked in the small device and arranged her favorite angle. She even pulled the curtains to let the sun shine in the room. This added a shade of yellow to the room. It felt even cozier and warmer that way. Once more, she peeked in her now-positioned camera, and after about a second, she pressed a button as a clicking sound emerged from the device.

She placed the camera back to its container and the flowers, after taking a couple of petals, she threw away. The petals she hid in a drawer as she found her way to her bathroom.

She did the morning rituals: taking a bath, eating breakfast, even jogging around the neighborhood. When she felt she already had the energy she needed for the day, she then dressed anew and took her camera, allowing its container's lace to dangle around her neck. And so with this, another day had started.

After what seemed to be a hard day's work has ended, she immediately bought some more blooms, guessing the quantity she would replace the old ones with. Its been barely a day since she last visited _his_ grave – some of the flowers might still be looking at their best. She always wanted the best for _him_. Now that he's gone, the more she needed to give_ him_ the best possible things she could give. She felt that in doing so, she could somehow alleviate the pain that she's feeling over _his_ death. She felt this was her own way of letting go.

She smiled once more upon arriving at the cemetery. Her eyes are filled with anticipation. She has been rehearsing over and over herself on what stories she's about to tell _him_ today. Again, as usual, she went in the afternoon. She has work in the morning and this is her only free time. Even in the little spare time given to her, she'd prefer to spend it with _him_. She paused for a short while upon seeing that tree which gave shed to _his_ tombstone. She smiled ever more as she strode off. In her excitement, she immediately called out his name, not knowing someone was there, too.

He turned around and saw her. He knew it was her voice that he heard as he just looked at her nearing figure. And when she called _his_ name, he figured he's at the right place. He could still see a surprised look on her face. It wasn't an "angry" surprise look nor was it a "happy" one. She just eyed him and took in his details, careful of what she would say. One of them had to speak up and it had to be him, she thought. He was, after all, the one who was looking at her for the longest time.

She continued walking towards _his_ grave, ignoring the young man standing just next to her. She did as she did before, kneeling down and replacing some of the fallen blooms. He stood there, just beside her yet was left awed and speechless upon seeing how she carefully cleaned the name plate of this one stone and replaced some of the withering flowers in the process. He'd never seen someone, in his whole life, care more for another who had passed away. And in this thought, knowing it was her who's doing it, he gave a sad smile. He noticed it only took her a short while upon finishing all these 'rituals'. He figured this was the right time to talk to her.

"Um, Mirialla?" he started. Frankly, he never knew how to start a conversation, especially with her. Her reactions, for him, were too unpredictable and this scared the wits out of him.

"Just Mir." She responded, her back against him as she shifted her kneeling position to a sitting one. Her voice was plain and blunt.

"Right. So, Mir, I heard he was buried here so I decided to visit him and maybe, talk to him." He said, still unsure of what to say or even explain himself to her. He never actually knew she was coming today. He saw the flowers and thought she had visited the other day, and never expected she'd visit again. Once a year did he visit his dead, and he, somehow, admired the devotion she's showing to hers.

"Not literally buried, but prayed over. This is just a simple thing, made of stone with his name on it…" she replied, touching the stone. He knew how Tolle died and found himself standing there dumbstruck upon realizing how stupid he was to think _his_ body was actually there.

"Sorry. I, I guess I was too assuming." He simple said, turning his gaze away. She suddenly stood up and brought the same container with her. She started to walk away when he grabbed her by the wrist.

"Hey, Mir, wait. I mean, where are you going?"

"I'm leaving. You said you wanted to talk to him, so go ahead and talk." She replied, obviously hiding her face from him. He knew something was wrong, he knew what it was yet he somehow wanted to hear it from her.

"I, I don't talk well to the dead." He answered back, trying to somehow make her stay through his words. And this statement from him pierced her heart more. As if losing her composure, she turned around and glared at him.

"To the dead? How could you refer to him like that! And now you say you want to talk to him then?" Bitterness was evident in her voice. He was taken aback by her statements. He was not sure of what he just said. He was, in fact, no good with words. He may have mastered some mobile suits during the war but he was no orator and he definitely was one impulsive coordinator. He let go of his hold on her.

"I'm sorry. Mir, what I wanted to say was…" he tried to apologize and explain his actions but when he saw her tears falling, he found such comforting words hard to grasp. His eyes widened and he surely was not sure on what to do next. He doesn't even know how to comfort a lost comrade, what more of a grieving one? He tried to think on what to do next. She was, in the meantime, just crying her heart out – not looking at him. He then, lifted his arms and held her shoulders. The touch of him somehow awakened her as she moved away from him, breaking out of his hold.

"Just go back to the Plants, Dearka! Just leave me alone." She said as she stared at him. He doesn't know how to respond to this without hurting her more. He just wanted to comfort her, and he had no other intentions more than that. True, he cared for her, and may also have felt something more, but, seeing her like this – it simply tears him apart, similar to what she's just currently feeling. With a determined look on his face, he held her once more on her shoulders.

"Look at me." He ordered, tightening his hold every time she attempts to break free.

"Let go!" she struggled back, both her arms hitting him hard. Her eyes completely shut.

"I said look at me, Mir!" he ordered once more, this time, with undue authority and raised tone. She opened her eyes and stared at his. He then loosened up as he released the strong pressure on his hold on her.

"Get yourself together, okay? Nobody wants – no - I don't want to see you like this. So please, Mir, get yourself together…" he pleaded, with a soft voice. He then lowered his hands and lay them hanging on his sides. He simply looked down after saying this and sighed deeply. His words somehow got to her as she simply took her gaze away from him and turned around. Dearka attempted to follow her but then, she stopped him on his tracks.

"I want to be alone. Please, Dearka…" she whispered as she set one more foot forward.

He complied with her, though he knew she needed him. He just stood there and looked at her fading figure.

Everyday since that day, Dearka always came to Tolle's grave. Somehow, making an excuse of talking to _him_ but realized, he wasn't saying anything at all, he was simply waiting for Mir to come and pass by. He even waited until the evening but still, she never seemed to show up to him. He figured out she knew he'd still be there. But then, he remained steadfast and waited for her. She wasn't answering or even returning his calls. There was simply no communication between them – zero. And he hated himself for it. For not being with her when he knew she needed someone. He also thought of going to her place but Mir would simply disappear. Either she was not home at the moment or she wasn't there at all. This place was the only place he knew she'd go. And he wasn't allowing her to suffer alone.

He then glanced back and walked towards _his_ grave. He observed it for a while and eventually knelt before it. He then remembered how Mir carefully cleaned _his_ grave and how diligently she replaced the flowers gracing it. He then realized how strong her feelings were for _him_ and how hurt she probably was all these years. He decided to simply talk to the one whose name was inscripted in this tombstone. He sighed deeply and started.

"So, hey, you must be Tolle?" He paused for a while, as if waiting for an answer he knew won't come. A part of him tells him to stop this nonsense but still, he continued on.

"We haven't been formally introduced yet. I'm Dearka, Dearka Ellsman. Nice to meet you." He then said as he gestured a hand shake. Wait – a handshake with this thing laying flat on the ground? How stupid he must really feel with his actions. He then closed his opened fist and lay it again on his side. He thought for a while and glanced at his back. He then, looked again at the stone that lay before him.

"You're a jerk, you know that? I honestly don't like you – a lot. Okay? Now, that's cleared, I can continue 'talking' to you." He stopped again and with a deep breath he went on.

Mir currently was at the store, buying the same flowers she usually bought. She just came home from an overseas trip. The day she encountered Dearka was actually the day she bade Tolle good bye. She already told _him_ she'd be away for a while and won't be able to visit him. That's why she just felt so ecstatic now that she's back. With her, she brought along wonderful stories of her experiences that she was so looking forward to share to _him_.

_I really am not fond of you…even your name. It seems so…I don't know, kind? Like that. We haven't met physically and somehow I think talking to this piece of stone is silly. Your body's not here anyway, so I just don't know how someone could ever reach you through this thing. Anyhow, I'm not here about that. I'm here because of Mir…_

She gave the lady behind the cashier the payment for the flowers she handpicked herself. She decided to add some incense to her purchase as she went to the other side of the street. She went inside one of the stores and was greeted with a warm "Welcome".

…_I don't know if she already told you how we first met but even if she did, I'd gladly tell that to you all over again, this time, in my point of view. How do I start…well, I was taken captive in this ship…the Archangel, your ship. I got arrested after that battle where Athrun and Kira were battling each other out. That's the time when you…when you passed away. _

She browsed over a variety of charms and eventually found her way in the incense section. She bought a pack of it, deciding to save some for later, as she would continue visiting him in the coming days. After making the purchase, she then went out. She suddenly remembered to buy a candle so she again, crossed the street. She took out her wallet first and checked on the amount of cash she had left. To her dismay, it was almost empty. She suddenly recalled making different purchases during her trip overseas. She then remembered leaving a certain pack of it at her apartment. She checked on the time and noticed it was still pretty early. With her other hand carrying the packages she bought, she gestured the other and called out a taxi. Soon enough, it came and stopped in front of her. She went in and told the cab where to take her. She then, laid her back against the covers of the seat as she closed her eyes, stealing rest from her tiring day.

_During those times when I lay there on the hospital bed, I was thinking, where the hell am I? What happened to my comrades? What's going to happen to me next? These thoughts ran in my mind. By that time, I knew I was in someone else's ship and definitely, the enemy's. The nurse left for a while and advised that I go get some rest, which I did. I really felt weary over that battle and somehow, my body also gave up. It was then, when I heard the door slide open. I opened my eyes, and before me, saw a certain short-haired girl. I don't know what I exactly said to her, but I certainly remembered telling her how she lost you – her natural boyfriend. Something like that. And after which, I saw her eyes and the whole of her snap. Before me, I saw a girl raging in anger, carrying with her hand a knife, ready to stab me._

She paid the fare and went out the vehicle. Using her other hand, she grabbed hold of the key and turned open the doorknob to her apartment. Once inside, she placed the flowers and the incense on the table as she went to her utility drawers and searched for the candles.

_I couldn't do anything more to stop her from dropping the knife on my chest since my hands were tied. So, I simply ducked and evaded her assault. She tried to do it again when this guy with glasses entered and stopped her from doing so. There surely was shouting in the room. She was screaming and cursing me at the same time. I didn't have the time to process things over my head. Her words were harsh and I could tell, they were simply from the heart. I don't know how it happened, but this red-haired girl suddenly came up and pointed a live gun at my face. Just like Mir, she was saying something like 'I hate all coordinators' and that our race must die. I knew I was a goner when she had her fingers on that trigger. She really looked ready to kill, just like the way Mir looked at me. I then had little time to think things over but somehow, I prepared myself. I told myself, if she's gonna kill me – so be it. And indeed, she pulled the trigger, but no bullet hit me. Mir - she jumped out and stopped her. She was crying and told her some things I barely recall. _

She now found the candles she was looking for. With a smile on her face, she immediately went towards the table and grabbed hold of the flowers and the incense. Making sure that she locked the door, she made her way to the road and there went to the bus stop.

_I was then transferred to the prison cells within the ship. I don't know where that is. Anyway, again, I found myself laying on that prison bed – just staring at the ceiling. My mind was actually blank as I thought of the so many things that took place earlier. I had two girls attempting to kill me. But when I looked at Mir's eyes, I felt her pain more. Then, I made up my mind. If I was to die that day, I'd willingly allow myself to be hit. Not long after that incident, I heard some footsteps. There, behind the bars on the free side, I saw Mir. Her eyes were somewhat different that time. I remember telling her to kill me at that instant. I remember apologizing, too, about mocking your death. Then, I felt like I just had to know what happened to you, so I asked her about it. She gave me a calm response…told me how you died, and the like. Finally, I realized it wasn't me who killed you, it was a friend of mine. I told her that and lay on my back again. I don't know how she reacted for I never dared to glance at her. I then heard footsteps fading away. _

She boarded a bus and waited for her stop. She went down at a particular street and after a few more minutes of walking, she reached the cemetery. She then smiled at her destination and went in. With her, the same old things she brought. This time, with happy memories to share to the departed one she's going to visit.

"Then, I was left to be free. I somehow felt an urge to fight alongside them – your crewmates, that is. I don't know why, but I just had a change of heart." Dearka stopped after recalling some of his early encounters with Mir. He looked at his watch and noticed it was getting late. So, he stood up, and straightened his jacket.

"All I'm asking you, and all I'm ever going to ask you is this: if you feel the same way as she does, please, set her free. Leave her…to be free. She's hurt and in grief for no one knows how long now. Tolle, I know you don't want to hurt her, but I also know and believe you know what to do, and I leave that to you." He ended as he turned around and took a few steps forward.

"Oh, before I forget. I figured out …" with this he took few more steps forward.

"…I feel jealous of her love for you. Even now that you're gone, she still cared for you…and that's why I… don't like you so much." With this, he left the area.


	2. What lies still

**A/N: Words…to grasp them fully is such a tedious job, yet once you found the right ones, they can be used as a tool, giving you the most rewarding and fulfilling ends. Yet in all this lay a threat, the rarity of such would compensate the understanding and appreciation of another. "I do not own Gundam Seed/Destiny." That goes for all the stories I've written. With that said, here I present the continuation of this story. **

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"Tolle, I'm back…" Mir greeted as soon as she reached the said young man's grave. She then proceeded with the usual as she took out the contents of the container she brought. She then knelt down and once more felt the coolness of the stone before her. With a smile on her lips, she one by one removed the fallen petals that blocked _his_ name. She did this for a while as she regarded what lay there. She hasn't seen or been with _him_ for quite a while and honestly, she felt a big gap in herself the moment she left for work. Her body was so used with visiting him everyday and frankly, not seeing _his_ grave even once caused a big uneasiness in her, what more of a couple of days? Lighting the candles and the incense, she remained still and quiet – in tune with the nature and the place, just feeling the whole area as she closed her eyes and offered a prayer.

She recently had seen different places and met interesting and perhaps memorable people along the course of her trip. Her camera captured every moment. She saw beautiful things and learned to appreciate them more and more. That's why she so valued and treasured each moment she spent in _his_ presence. She found such conditions beauteous and fittingly, unusual. These were, after all, one of the few times she truly felt happy.

She then took sight of _his_ name. As she held on its carvings, the warm feeling which once emanated from her grew cold – as cold as the stone itself. A breeze passed by and once more, she felt isolation and perhaps even depression. Why? She thought ever so deeply but found no answer. She has been doing this everyday, well almost everyday, but, since when did her touch grew bleak? She then felt her cheeks with her hand, comparing its warmth – its temperature. It was quite normal. Nothing had changed. She wasn't feeling unwell so this was logically correct. And besides, how could such a thing be altered upon contact with a simple blowing wind? Not even finished with these thoughts, she felt another completely different emotion which, in a way, complemented the sudden cold - urgency. Somehow, something within her stirred. She felt the need to leave that place. Something was not right, she knew. She returned her gaze to the tombstone, unconscious that her hands firmly held on it with both palms slated against its layer. The coolness was still there, and the exigent feeling remained as well. But what didn't remain was the assurance of the place and the certainty for herself.

She descended the steps as slowly as she could trying to grasp fully what just took place. She felt unwanted. As if her presence was unwarranted. She was wondering, and pondering on the possible reasons as to the sudden change of atmosphere. This place she once called her sanctuary felt so strange to her – felt just like the first time she set foot on a foreign land. It was not anxiety and definitely not eagerness. Surely, she felt such emotions upon arriving at her once-called haven but now, she felt the complete contrary. She couldn't quite comprehend but was sure she was being pushed away from that place further. The elements, perhaps? What it was didn't matter, for only one did: she no longer felt security in there. And this hurt her as deeply.

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She did not bother to say her goodbyes to _him_. She thought this was just brought upon by her weariness from her trip. She reserved her farewell for later, thinking she'd still come back after a much-needed and deserved rest. And as she lay once more on her bed, she thought blankly and uttered a message to the thin air "Tomorrow, surely…I will." And in a thud, she fell into slumber, completely disregarding the signs laid out for her.

Her eyelids flickered as small rays of light escaped the window curtains. She then slightly motioned her eyes open but almost as immediately closed them shut upon seeing the time on her clock. It was indeed too early for a tired Mir to get up from bed. She felt so weak and simply, in her terms, lazy to do anything more than just lay there and enjoy the comfort brought about by her soft and much-missed cushions. But such didn't last long as a loud repetitive sound echoed throughout the room. Her body all of a sudden jolted upwards, making her sit up straight on her bed. Unconsciously she motioned both hands through the bedside table, feeling in the objects that lay on it. With eyes either opened or closed fully, she felt her hands hit a certain object and almost as instantly, making it fall on the ground. This thump sound was loud enough to bring her back to her senses. She suddenly opened her eyes and looked at the fallen thing – the bugging and disturbing sound continuously playing. Her eyes widened as she quickly leapt from her bed. On the floor lay her most precious belonging – her camera. Quickly, she took hold of it and checked it. She turned it on, peeked in and at once gave a shot. The device wasn't broken after all, as the shot she just took registered in it. She then glanced over at the continuously loud clock. She initially planned to slam it shut but then in the last minute gave a thought to it. She, instead, gently lowered her hand and with a push, the sound died down. Silence at once regained its control over the room. The place remained still.

She sat down on the floor, her back against the side of her bed for support. In this comfortable stance, she began to recall. Snapshots and more. With the camera in her grasp, she browsed over the pictures she took. All contained memories, not only from her trip but mostly from her life. Still shots, even. She knew very well how the pictures she took showed a part of her. Each one she reminisced as if traveling through time itself. She felt her heart tinge upon seeing that beautifully taken shot. Only one color graced it, a soft hue of orange yet that one color exemplified warmth, capturing the early morning rays of the rising sun. This was the photo she took sometime in the past – the photo of how the fallen flowers for one last time showed their beauty. Old and fragile – some petals lay on the empty table where their stems sat still.

She observed this one fully, not minding the amount of time she spent over it. She somehow had her eyes fixed on it, not daring to let them wander anywhere else. Mesmerized? Surely, she knew she wasn't. It was something else, as she tried to decipher what seemed to be a hidden message behind the 'coded' picture. She had felt differently before, and even sensed the seemingly changes in her perception. Like the one which took place earlier. This was the same feeling. Was someone trying to tell her something? Her thoughts were disturbed when another sound emerged.

With the camera still in hand, she stood up and went out her room – towards the origin of the sudden sound.

"Hello?"

At first, the one on the other end never spoke up. She was about to hang up when he did, just in time.

"Uh, hi. Is that you Mir?"

"Yeah…Dearka?" she sensed the tension within him as she spoke in recognition.

"Well, you could say that. I had been calling you, actually, trying to reach you…" he paused.

"…see, I can't say it on the phone, could we just meet or something?" with a slight hesitation, he asked.

"Sure. When and where?" she answered. He gave her the details then hung up. She did the same as her eyes suddenly glanced on the same picture she had been staring at for, who knows, but hours. Why? This, she never understood…yet.

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He sat there, staring at the empty vase which lay before him. He couldn't hide his somewhat nervousness as he glanced on his watch every now and then. Their agreed time was fast approaching. "Come on Dearka, you could do this…" he cheered himself on as he took a deep breath.

The doors of the café slid open. From his view, he could see a brown-haired woman enter as she approached the desk. Probably, she's inquiring of his whereabouts as a female attendant pointed on his direction. He stood from his seat and waved at her.

"Sorry, I thought it was 9 am." She asked upon standing right in front of him.

"It is. It just so happened that I came early. You're not late, that's what I mean. Please, sit down." He then said as he pulled the chair for her. He really wasn't good at introductions and this, he truly admitted. He then sat across her seat and for a moment, looked at her without saying anything.

She noticed this and felt her face heat up. His stares somehow had an effect on her, and this was the first time she realized it.

"What?" she broke the silence as she looked at him. He didn't know what to say to her. He was actually figuring out what to say next as a blush shot across his cheeks. He then heard a soft giggle. Now, he was more embarrassed. He can't explain himself fully as he was saved from this 'shame' when a waiter approached them and gave them each a copy of the menu. Finally, something to talk about – something to start the conversation with.

"So, Mir, what do you want?" he asked as he looked at her while she was browsing over the copy.

"I don't know. What do _you _want?" she returned the same to him. With this, he found himself again in the same situation earlier.

"Um, well…" he struggled as he hastily flipped the pages of the menu. His eyes wandered from one point to another, making himself appear calm and focused but failing miserably in the process.

Mir knew he was having a hard time. It was painted all over his face. With brows almost meeting each other, she found such behavior unusual - even cute and appealing. She had met lots of people from different parts of the world yet somehow found this one man before her standing out.

"We'll have two mocha lattes and a slice of your finest cake. And for him, I should say, a plate of garlic wheat strips with a dip of cheddar on top. Is that all right with you?" she then asked the young man who before was sweating and now, stared at her in awe. He simply nodded and added a quick reply to the one taking down the orders. "That's what we'll have then."

While waiting for their order, he can't help but look at her – as if examining her features. He really felt awkward at himself, but then, he was just enjoying this moment he's spending with her. Honestly, he thought she would reject his offer and even act cold around him. It was then that he realized this wasn't the case. Her reaction was simply based on the situation and the place. Even if he wasn't with her at the time, he concluded that she would've acted the very same way. He felt the need to apologize on his intrusion on her 'private' moment. He figured out that somehow, all Mir wanted was to be alone with _him_, and she sure wasn't expecting anyone to disturb that – not even him.

"Mir…" he then spoke up. She was surprised of the sudden serious tone. His stares on her were enough to warm her heart up – wait, was this what she really was feeling?

"Yeah?" she obviously replied on impulse.

"Thank you for coming here and agreeing to talk to me. I really thought you wouldn't, after what happened before." He confessed. She found this so un-Dearka-like. He, who'd say as less words as possible finally said something this long and this honest to her. She found this a big improvement. She never really knew Dearka much but she somehow liked the way he could come up with things that eventually surprise her. And this was one of them.

"I'm a total wreck that time, so you don't have to apologize. I acted mean to you when you never really did anything wrong, so I must be the one doing that."

"And," he hesitated for a while, checking on her. He was, as if, foretelling in his thoughts her reaction after hearing his next statement. He then shrugged the thought off as he decided to just go for it.

"Are you a wreck now?" he finally asked.

Mir knew what this was about.

"Not now, but still." She replied while looking at the view outside. Their seats were located beside the glass windows, overlooking the busy and crowded street. He knew of the pain she was burdened with. Maybe, not exactly, but he had a glimpse of it. It's hard, and that's a fact. That's why he wanted to help her to the best that he can, that even he talked to a stone for it. Their orders then came as both indulged in them. For a while, silence ate them. He would usually steal glances at her and she'd usually catch him doing so. But then, besides that, no other action interesting enough took place with the two. All there was was eating and staring – if those were the proper words to describe the situation they're in. After finishing each servings, the two found themselves looking at one another as a brush of pink painted on their cheeks. Each quickly looked away, trying ever so desperately to focus their attention somewhere else. With this, the young man initiated a friendly conversation with the young woman who appeared to be bored throughout the morning.

"This café is really quite something. I mean, usually, we up at space never had this kind of thing. Well, except maybe for Copernicus, we do have stalls like this but then, nothing beats the things they serve here." He commented as he leaned on the seat, somewhere within, hoping she would accept the gesture.

"You're right. I haven't visited such a fancy place for a long time." As she said this, she turned to smile at him. This, he took as a positive sign. Somehow he felt she was loosening up.

"This isn't fancy at all. The prices are but the food certainly is ordinary. I could cook these myself." He added with a slight mix of complacence – which he eventually regretted.

"Really? Then, I guess we should have lunch at your place. I haven't tasted any dish cooked by a coordinator. At least, not yet."

The young man then gulped in upon hearing what she said. He really had gone far for bragging about his cooking prowess. He couldn't possibly explain his inability to meet her expectancy but then, he couldn't turn her down as well. So, he just gave her a nod as his resolve and ended with a "Let's get a walk, shall we?" which she gladly accepted.

It sure was a right choice to invite her for a stroll. The weather was fine – not the usual sunny or chilly one – just normal and enticing for a walk. They couldn't help but talk about different things – just silly things. Being with her was enough for him. Never mind the teasing he gets whenever she's close by. All he really wanted was to be with her and see her smile. He hasn't seen that for a long time and now that a giggling Mir was beside him in this walk, he wouldn't care less if he was the reason for it – which he so gladly noted.

They passed by a familiar store. Mir decided to check on it as Dearka followed close by. He was, at first, looking at her direction, wondering what flowers she as buying. He knew it would be for someone special. Then, he returned his gaze to the ones before him. Simple and neat. And as he took a single stem to observe it more carefully, a saleslady of some sort approached him and offered him assistance. He then agreed on it as he gave her some details about the blooms he preferred.

The two then left the store. Mir obviously had made a purchase but Dearka seemed to go out the same way he entered – carrying nothing.

He attempted to carry the flowers for Mir but she refused him. She said she felt like the one holding those and that Dearka should have something to hold. This earned her an audible laugh from the young man. "I think I should have…" he slightly mused.

They stopped for a while and sat on a nearby bench, somewhere in a desolate park. He momentarily left her to buy some sweets and eventually came back with two cones of chocolate and strawberry ice creams. He stood in front of her as she looked on the things he held up.

"Hey, I don't like strawberry. Why'd you buy me that?" she teased, but somehow, this was half-true. She never really liked strawberry and really preferred the other flavor.

"I know. I like strawberry. I bought the chocolate for you. Everyone likes chocolates, so I assumed you do, too." With this, he handed over the brown one. She was in fact surprised at his response but was simply at a loss for words. She took the one he held out for her with a smile and remembered the day they had. She gave out a hearty laugh at the memory.

"Now what?" he asked, with a smile, too as he licked his cream. It was afternoon then, and they found this an appropriate way to end the day.

"Nothing. I just thought it has been a long while since I got to laugh like this. This hard, I mean." She never really expected such an invitation from this blonde coordinator to turn out like this. Frankly, she couldn't even recall the last time she had a good time as this. The feeling was great and she thought she never knew how it felt.

"Same here. I am a stuffed-up soldier after all…I guess we have some similarities."

She then gave his words a thought. He was right. They had some similarities. Both had gone through the war and both experienced pain. But somehow, she knew hers was more than that. He may have still been wearing a Zaft uniform and continuing on as a soldier but she remained stuck here. She recently figured out that photography wasn't a profession or a career. It was more like a therapy for her – something to keep her busy and her mind off things. It was slowly turning out to be something which kept her sanity.

"It's late. I guess this is the time we say our goodbyes." She informed him as she pointed at her watch. He did the same and stood up. He never really wanted to leave yet, but if she insisted, was there anything else he could do but comply?

"At least, allow me to walk you home." He then held her by the arm and started walking, without hearing even her consent. She was surprised by his actions but eventually gave in. She knew she couldn't stop him from doing that. She guessed that allowing him to walk her home would somehow make up for what she did – leaving at once, saying some words to him and even, mentally cursing his very presence. But right now, as he held her arms, she knew these feelings changed. She somehow felt contented and calm with him. She thought this as a smile once more shown on her face.

"Here we are." She then said after a long walk. They were both standing in front of a beige gate. Mir was ahead of four steps as Dearka somehow just stood at the bottom level – stopping in his tracks. She noticed the sudden change in him. A while ago, they would tease each other and talk about almost everything.

"Hey," she tried to call out to him. He then faced her and in doing so, gave her a warm smile.

"I guess this is where we'll part ways then. Thanks for inviting me out." She ended as she opened the gate. But he had other things in mind. He won't let this day end – not yet.

"Mir," he then replied which caused a stop in her – in all her actions and thoughts that is. What was in this guy that made her feel something? And when she turned around, something just seemed to tell her to invite him in. Maybe for a cup of coffee or the like, anything, so long as he was with her.

"Dearka, do you…" she was about to ask her question when he suddenly interrupted her.

"I'm leaving." He said. Just like that, those two words for a while seemed to be uncompromisable to her ears. Those words seemed to be hard to understand, no matter how simple they were.

He found a need to explain this to her as he saw a sad shade in her eyes. Though this only showed for a while, he knew, it was still there.

"I was just called in by my superior yesterday. I called you because I wanted to at least say good bye before finally leaving. And somehow, fate was on my side, you were home so I took the initiative to just spend some more time with you…"

He never knew how hard it would be to let these words slip out from his mouth, and now that it did, it even pained him more with the thought that he will be leaving her alone – that he would no longer be there for her.

"…I don't know when I'll be able to come back here again. It would, honestly, take some time."

"How long?" she asked. He knew he had to be honest with her but also knew that if he became more truthful, he'd have his heart more torn and shattered. He was afraid of that question, the thought of not seeing Mir again for he doesn't know until when haunted him.

"Months, maybe years. I don't really know." He answered, ending up being his true self after all thoughts.

"Oh…" was all she could say. Not much anxiety in her tone, just a simple 'oh'.

He was hoping to hear something more from her. Never mind how long he'd have to stand here. He just wanted to really know what she felt about it.

"So that's what you wanted to tell me when you called. That you were leaving." She paused and gave him another smile. He knew this wasn't the one she gave him earlier. When she smiled at the café or even at their stroll, that was genuine and came about from the happiness that welled within her. This one was surely brought about by something else and he concluded it was more for him, not for her. She smiled this way to somehow reassure him that his departure didn't bother her as much as it did to him. And, it hurt him. She wasn't being honest with him, he accepted that, but why couldn't she be more honest to herself at least?

The sun's orange hues lay softly on his figure. He stood there, just looking at her. She knew she had to say something to him but never figured out exactly what. As she pondered on her thoughts, she suddenly remembered the flowers she bought. This would give her the excuse she needed – just to say something to him, just to make him leave her.

"I, I have to go somewhere else. Would you like to accompany me?" she said. She didn't really understand how on earth she dared to even invite him to where she was going. The first part was true but the second? She had yet to find out as he nodded in response.

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She knelt down and lay the flowers beside her. He just stood there, behind her, slightly leaning against the trunk of the sturdy tree. She then began replacing the old ones with the new blooms she bought. Somehow, she could see a glimpse of him from the corner of her eye as she was doing this and it made her blush a little. She knew he was staring at her. Those eyes were always looking at her as if telling her such were made only for her. That his sight only wanted her view. She shrugged off these thoughts as she remembered where she was. How could she think of another man in the presence of the one whom she gave her heart to? She felt sick at the thought and simply continued on, trying to ignore Dearka's presence.

After doing these, she began to pray in silence. She used to talk to _him_ aloud but now, she felt like whispering to _him_. In this stillness, however, she couldn't help but think of a certain yellow-haired young man. His face kept on flashing in her head. She tried to wipe these thoughts away but they just kept on popping out. She couldn't understand why. She was supposed to talk to Tolle, not think of Dearka. In the middle of this, she was awakened by a comforting hand.

"Mir?" he whispered.

"Huh?" she then looked up at him, still with hands clasped together.

"Sorry to interrupt you – again, but I have to be going. I needed to go somewhere else. You see, please understand." Dearka said as he scratched the back of his head.

"W-wait! I'm almost finished…if you could just hold on." She replied with haste as she closed her eyes once more and whispered a few words before finally standing up and facing him.

He was, in fact, amazed at how fast she did her prayer. She wasn't like this before, that he was certain of. They were about to walk on as she remembered something. She then returned her gaze back to the stone and found the thing she'd looked for. It was the container with the old blooms. She never forgot this one before leaving, but funny, she just did this day.

"Let's go." She then said, facing the dazzled coordinator once more.

It didn't take a lot of time before they reached her apartment. They had been away for almost a whole day but felt like it was only a few hours. They found themselves in the very position they were in before. She, a few steps advanced from him. This time, however, she never turned her back against him, she simply stood there, facing him. This was the moment to say good bye and she knew one of them had to start it. By the looks of it, Dearka wouldn't be the first one, so she did instead.

"Thank you, once again, for today. It was a memorable one." This, she said with all sincerity. It was the first time she went out with any other guy besides _him_. It was also the first time she ever agreed to spend a day with someone else after _his_ death. And most importantly, the first time Dearka ever invited her out. Those things alone were enough to make this day one of the most memorable ones, even one of the happiest times she ever had.

"Same here. And Mir…" he said as he took something from his coat. It was a single stemmed flower. Its white-blue colors standing out among all those she'd ever seen in her entire lifetime. He looked at it then with a single hand on its stem, motioned his hand towards her.

"For you."

She couldn't help but stare at the one he held on so gently. She never knew Dearka was the type who gives out things to anyone. She initially took him as a heartless crook who did nothing better than pilot his war-machines. Surely, that had long –ago been dismissed as she met him more for himself. But this one, was an entirely new milestone on how much she knew him. She felt that with this, she knew him better – in a good way and sense.

She reached out to it and carefully, took it to her palms. Holding it on its stem, she took time to admire its beauty and take in its scent. She then looked at the young man who gave it to her - her eyes inquiring as to his intent.

"Good night." Was all he said as he waved back at her. He turned around and started walking away. She couldn't move even a single finger. He just bade her a good night and she couldn't even say the same to him. She was probably left speechless by the little yet meaningful gift he gave her. She once more smiled at the thought and went inside.

She hang her coat on the holder as soon as she entered her apartment. But then, she just went and took a seat at the nearby chair. She simply looked at the precious thing in her grasp. She then placed it on a single vase, along with the other blooms she had with it. After a while, she then took out the others, leaving the one Dearka gave alone in the vase. Surely, among others, this one flower stood out but then, she thought, it would be improper to lay it in a container with everything else, when it is in itself something else.

She sat there, just looking at the flower when a certain container fell on the ground. Her attention was shifted to the origin of the sound as she stood up and walked towards it. There, lying on the ground, was the bag which contained the old blooms she gathered from _his_ grave earlier. The sight alone gave her heart a leap. All this time, she had been ignoring the withered ones and completely focused her attention on the single new one. It's like comparing a bundle of old flowers to a sole new one.

She slowly picked up each stem – one by one. After doing so, she then placed them back on the table where she'd left them upon entering the room. What was happening to her? She simply observed the fragile-looking flowers to that one he gave her. They're so different yet so much alike. She then recalled what took place on _his_ grave.

She felt ashamed of herself for she was in front of _his_ grave and yet, had the guts to think of the one standing next to her. Since she came back home from her trip, she couldn't help but notice the sudden change in her. She used to devotedly visit _his_ grave, not that she doesn't anymore, but there's just a certain level of dedication that was lost. She was there but she felt a part of her wasn't. Before, she couldn't get her day ended without even talking to _him_, but now, she felt she couldn't even start it without thinking of another. What was wrong with her? Was it the thought that he was leaving which caused her to act so unusually? Was it because of the small parting gift he gave her?

She thought ever more deeply, contemplating within herself, trying hard to find the answers to her seemingly unending questions. There she was, stuck in her apartment, with thoughts that continue to bother her. She's been acting weirdly and she didn't understand why. Since the day she saw him on _his_ grave…since that day, she's been having some unexplainable thoughts. Could Dearka possibly cause such turmoil within her? Was he the culprit behind all these? Then, if he really was, it would make her feel better when he leave her completely. And it won't be so soon. He, himself, told her so. And they won't be seeing each other for a very long time. It would be enough to clear her mind and let her life slip back to the way it used to be. But then, why couldn't she feel relief? His departure even caused pain within her…just the thought of it hurt her, what more if he actually left?

She then remembered the way they parted. He didn't say 'good bye' but rather, 'good night'. Could this mean something?

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She knew what she had to do yet she was, admittedly, afraid of doing something rash. She never really figured out what had been happening with her but there was something that she held on to at the moment. Things started to change when he came along – when Dearka Elsman came into the picture. And, she was going to find out why. She won't let him leave unless this question was answered.

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She saw his figure waiting in a bus stop. She got his hotel address quite right but she didn't expect to see him there – at a stop near her apartment. He just sat there, a hand holding his luggage while the other supporting his face. He was waiting, she thought. But for what, she never really figured out. She told herself she won't hold anything back. This was it – now or never. Hopefully, she'll understand what's been happening to her. Hopefully, she'll get what she always wanted – inner peace.

He saw her, and for a moment, was shocked upon knowing she was there – right in his very presence. He even almost lost the balance of his face as he stood up and just looked on the approaching Mir. When at a close enough distance, she stopped.

"Why?" she asked with eyes only focused on his. He was just standing there, with his hand tightly gripping the handle of his bag. He so willingly would go and keep her body close to his – if only he had the guts to. But then, he realized he can never do that. For if that was all he wanted from her, all his efforts of cheering her up would go to waste. He didn't want to reach her physically, but more of emotionally. He wanted to see her smile all the time. Never would a day pass by without him thinking of her. He had seen all hurt in the faces of all the people he cared deeply for but none compared to the pain he feels every time she would break down and cry. She wanted to be strong yet somehow, he knew she wasn't. She could pretend all right but how far would that go? He wanted to bring her back to the living. He wanted this and so much more.

"It's just me." Was all he could say – what he could possibly think of saying. A safe answer, he was certain of it. But it never contained even the slightest part of the emotion he had at the moment. He turned to take his leave. This was for the better.

"You're leaving then?" she then inquired, impatient in her tone…requiring an utmost answer.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked, slightly showing a hint of amusement on her boldness.

"Tell me why you always hang around and cheer me up. Tell me why you always seem to be there whenever I needed you. And tell me why you suddenly came into my life again showing me things I swore I have sorely missed for who knows how many years…" with all courage, she continued on.

"And please tell me why you're like that. Also, what do you think are you doing, sitting there when we both know very well this stop is the farthest from your destination?"

With all these thrown at him, he couldn't help but choke himself to laughter. This earned him a glare from the young woman who obviously didn't rest her eyes even for a bit since they met earlier.

"Geez, I don't know how to answer all of that."

"Just answer them, then I'll leave."

"What if I don't?"

"I won't leave. Do I have to repeat myself all over again before you could understand the words I'm saying?" she asked, irritation evident towards the young man.

"I won't tell you a thing." He ended, and with that, continued on walking. The bus hasn't arrived and no soul could be seen at that hour of the night.

"It's hard." She spoke up, her words coming from the depths of her own.

He stopped walking, as he heard the tone in her voice. Audible, it surely was. And sad.

"When he died, I died with him. I gave him my heart and I'm glad I did. But then, you came – making me feel pain again. And it's hard because this time, I feel so weak to fight the threatening tears. You are the reason of my misery, can't you see?" she broke down as she shed tears.

He couldn't say a word or even move a muscle. He stood there, waiting.

"You made me feel that I'm alive. That I can feel misery and pain all over again. I thought a single breeze would be enough but it wasn't. It was a cycle and you are the proof of it. Did you really think for one instant that the time we had would cheer me up? Guess what, it didn't. It brought me into thinking, what if you were _him_ and we were doing what we did. I could've been happy and satisfied. It kills me…and you know that. But you still were there with me, why?" with this, she sat down on the bench, crying out to herself. He deeply sighed as he held on the handle even tighter – almost breaking its rubberized framework.

"I thought my actions clearly spoke for themselves, but I guess I was wrong." He then turned to face her sulking figure. He sat down beside her and thought for a moment. When he spoke up, he gazed at the dark sky.

"It must've been clear to you. I found no exact words to explain what I'm feeling. But then, in the simplest and commonly used lines, I guess you'll understand. I feel a great deal for you – I love you. Now, is that any clearer?" he never imagined this encounter with her would bring about a confession from him. An emotion he so kept wrapped in the corners of his heart finally revealed itself. He never really wanted to tell her such words but the situation demanded for it. Now that it was out in the open, he could finally face her and claim that he had been honest with his feelings all the while. And this was the culmination of it all.

He prepared his ears for whatever she might say. He expected rejection. It was a sure outcome. But then, needless to say, she found words which would turn the events back to his favor – words he thought she'd never say but expected the meaning.

"I can't love anyone. I can't return the love you give me."

Simple and understandable words. Even the brightest scholar didn't need a dictionary for that. It had 'rejection' all over its letters, at least that's what he initially thought.

"I don't want you to return it." He said, ever more calmly.

"Does it matter? Dearka, I already told you more than once, I gave _him_ my heart. And it's the heart that's capable of loving another. I don't have it with me anymore. That's why I cannot return the love you willingly gave me. So please, don't say such silly and mindless words. You're making things harder to bear and more complicated to understand." She pleaded with him, momentarily pausing to allow some pouring droplets of water.

"That's what you think. You're the one making things harder to bear and more complicated to understand…" he said softly, his eyes, now intently staring at hers. They were filled with emotion, compassion, as he gently cupped her face.

"…I know that – all that. Are you not listening to what I've been saying all along? I don't want you to return the feeling I have for you. I don't want you to love me. Love isn't like that, it would have been selfish and stupid for me to do so – to request for something I know you cannot give. But that is my reason why…" he then looked straight at her, closed his eyes as he leaned towards her – his forehead touching hers. In a whisper he continued…

"…why I loved you in the first place. Even if you don't have a heart which you said belonged to someone else, I am here and I'm willing to give you a part of me. I wanted to give you my heart so that you'll be capable of loving again – of feeling again. So that you'll be truly free…" Such tender words ringed in her ears. She couldn't believe it. Here, in front of her was the one man who ever dared to hold her like this. Here was the young man who was willing to risk everything just so she could be happy again, just so she could live again.

"Why are you doing this?" she can't help but ask as she felt few more tears escape her eyes.

"I already told you that." With that, he released his hold on her. He then stood up and picked his luggage. As if fate willed it, a bus approached their stop and halted just in time.

"I hope that when I close my eyes, I could see your smiling face. And that when I open them, you." Without anything to say more, he boarded the vehicle. It took all his energy to leave her. The bus strode off as he followed her fading figure in the dark.

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_He never regretted leaving her that night. With a silver ring around his finger, he stood up from his nap. The darkness may not have left completely, but as long as he was there, everything will be all right._

_For such a state cannot exist fully when there's still the light. _

**-End-**


End file.
